


Lifetimes

by madasthehatterforalice



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Soulmates, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-05
Updated: 2015-05-16
Packaged: 2018-02-03 13:55:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1747073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madasthehatterforalice/pseuds/madasthehatterforalice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the end of the world the souls of the worthy are offered peace and the unworthy are offered redemption. To that end a new world is created where these soul live and die in pursuit of peace and redemption. In every life Dean and Castiel met but each life leaves them incomplete. In every life Castiel remembers all the lives that came before, but Dean never does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In the Beginning or at the End...One of Those

This is the story of a boy. Well, two boys. Well, a thousand, thousand lives of two boys. But it's the same two boys...I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me start over.

 

* * *

 

 

The world ends, as it was always going to, in fire. For the earth was never more than finite. And it is there at the end that our story begins.

There, in the dirt and the ash, a fallen being so full of love and so cast low by it, cries out to a father he's not sure even listens. When no answer comes he shurks off his physical form and clings to the soul he gave all for. The soul, as it did once before, clings to him as well and together they wait for the empty eternity to follow.

So cloven is this tainted being that when the woman who would be his mother comes to offer him peace she can not separate them. She does the best she can but she is young and they are determined. The separation is far from complete and they are destined for together in a way beyond her control. She apologizes and carries the new souls to peace.

All this Castiel Shirley remembers as he hears Dean Winchester tell his bride "I do."

This is the first new life.

 

* * *

 

 

He was once a being of light, of infinite dimension, of wavelength and intent. He watched the universe as it was born. He watched stars glow and extinguish.

He had brothers, so many brothers. He had a Father and a mission.

Then he laid his incorporeal hand on a soul so bright and yet so far from his Father's grace.

Then he fell.

He fell in every possible way.

He killed his brothers, so many of his brothers. He doubted his Father and abandoned his mission.

That soul gave him his new mission and the choice to choose it.

All this Castiel remembers the first time Dean introduces him to his new boyfriend.

He has lost count of how many lives have past.

 

* * *

 

 

But this isn't a story about those lives. This isn't a story about the original life, of angels and demons, of deals and the family business. This isn't a story of watching the soul you love being so achingly straight they never even look your way. This isn't a story of watching that soul discover every man but you. No.

This is the story of a boy. That boy is Castiel Shirley. He lives in a deceptively small house with his father, Charles, his mother, Becky, and his rather impressive number of brothers and sisters.

There were the eldest, twins, Michael and Lucifer. Michael was older. Only by 2 minutes but he never let Lucifer forget it. To say it was a matter of contention between them would be a vast understatement.

Then there was Raphael, who's curse it was, being the next oldest, to share a room with the disagreeing twins for most of their childhood. It gave Raphael a rather...abrasive personality. This was not hampered at all by his rather frank statement over dinner, three years after puberty, that he was female. Father's response was simply that they had her rooming in the wrong room then and would the girls mind helping their sister move her things. Where Mother asked if they had named her wrong. Raphael had responded that, no, she quite liked her name and dinner went on. Raphael, in spite of all abrasiveness, was loyal to her family and would endure all for them.

After her was Naomi. She was the quintessential older sister. Her favorite past-time was to mother her younger siblings, occasionally even her older ones, though they were far less tolerant of it.

Next was Gabriel. He suffered a rather classic case of "middle child syndrome." This he expressed through sugar fueled solo prank wars. Solo because no one was stupid enough to try to keep up with him. At least, not after their first few rounds.

His favorite victim, by far, was Uriel. Uriel was next in age and stiff both in person and personality. This, however, did not stop him from being, in Castiel's opinion, the funniest of them all. Maybe that is why he was Gabriel's favorite victim. It was a saving grace to the sanity of the whole household that Gabriel roomed with Michael and Lucifer rather than Uriel and the younger boys.

Between Uriel and the next boy was the youngest girl, Anael. To see her interact with the others one would peg her as a rebellious child. From an early age, when she promptly and emphatically stated her name was Anna not Anael and that no one was to call her the later, she had been portraying that image. However, when either Mother or Father set a rule or law in place Anna's behavior was always clearly within those lines.

After Anna there was only Samandriel and Castiel. They often said that though Samandriel was the older, Castiel was the "big brother." It was Castiel who guarded his brother with furiosity. This brother in particular, though Castiel could never figure why, invoked in him such a protective streak.

But that's really all just background, a prelude to a prologue if you will. Our story really begins when Castiel is 5...


	2. 5

There comes a time in everyone's life, a pivotal moment where their purpose is finally known to them and the path they're meant to take is made clear.

Less well known, but no less important, is the moment you first become aware that your life is bigger than you ever thought.

For Castiel that moment came when he was just 5 years old.

Though this may seem young these things happen no sooner or later than they are meant to. You see Castiel had just gotten to the age where his dreams began to have a structure and idea he was able to articulate upon waking. This is, of course, opposed to the dijointed colors, sounds, and images in the dreams of infants.

After a thousand, thousand lifetimes of memories, compounded upon the thousand, thousand years of his original lifetime things were getting a bit full in Castiel's unremembering subconscious. He had begun to dream of light and wavelengths and intent, of languages dead and unreal, of wings and grace and heat and claws and salvation and triumph and... And he would wake for it all to fall to nonsense. Even at such a young age it is frustrating to have a truth on the tip of your tongue only to be out of reach. So he did what any sensible child of his resources would do: he asked his older brothers.

This would prove to be a mistake.

Castiel, by virtue of being the youngest of so many, was the youngest by a lot. Meaning there was nearly ten years between himself and his oldest siblings, meaning also that by the time Castiel was 5 years old, and had begun to question his dreams, the older siblings were old enough to notice something was slightly...different with their youngest brother.

All of this, in turn, meant that when Castiel approached Michael, since he was the eldest and therefore, in the mind of a child, the smartest, Michael's response was...less than favorable.

"What are you talking about?" the 13 year old turned from his video game to stare at Castiel, clearly unhappy at being interrupted.

"I have dreams of light and wings and words with no meaning," there is silence meeting his statement were the other occupants of the room, Gabriel and Samandriel, joined Michael in staring at Castiel. "Don't you?" Castiel asked, feeling suddenly smaller than before, a feat since he was already the smallest of his siblings.

"No! Of course I don't, that's weird!"

"Don't say that, Mike," Gabriel said. Neither of them were paying attention to their game now. To the side Castiel could hear the sounds of onscreen carnage as their characters suffered from their inattention.

"Well, it is!" Michael insisted, "Castiel's a little weirdo and everybody knows it."

"Shut up, Michael!" Gabriel was quickly taking up Castiel's offense.

"You shut up, Gabriel. He's a weird little kid. He talks like a dictionary."

"I'm telling you: Lay off him!" They were quickly evolving towards yelling, they were pre-teens after all.

"Yeah? Or what?" Michael shot back.

"I'm telling Father," came the reply in a small voice from the corner. The two older boys looked to its source before Samandriel spoke again, stronger this time, "You're being a big fat meanie and I'm telling Father." Samandriel grabbed Castiel's hand and marched him, as well as a 6 year old can, out of the room.

Behind them Gabriel looked about ready to rain fire down on Michael, "One day you will remember and look back on this day with regret."

Sometimes Gabriel sounded just like he did in Castiel's dreams.

 

* * *

 

"Dad!" Samandriel called, dragging Castiel behind him into Father's study, "Michael is being mean to Castiel!"

Father put down his papers and regarded his two youngest sons in that way all parents do, prepared to be amused or commanding which ever the situation called for.

Castiel spoke first. "Father, there are words in my head that have no meaning when I speak them."

"Michael said he's crazy but he isn't, Father!"

"Do you hear the words too, Samandriel?"

"No...But Castiel's not crazy, Michael's just a big meany."

"Your Mother and I will have a talk with him but in the meantime tell Michael," Father paused and seems to swallow whatever words were his first instinct to say, "that I would like to talk to him."

Samandriel nodded, the solemn nod of a child given a mission, and left the room.

Once the door had closed, Father turned his attention to Castiel, "How much do you remember?"

Castiel took a deep breath and trusted his Father with the full trust of childhood not to react as Michael did, "I have dreams. I dream of being light and love and praise. I have nightmares of a damned man that turn to dreams when I raise him up. There are words in my head, Father, that have no meaning once spoken. Am I crazy? I think I was once."

Father looked at him with kindness and smiled, "One day, Castiel, you will meet a boy and it will all make sense."

"A boy?" Castiel said, tilting his head to the side in question, "A boy like me?"

Castiel is destined to be half of a whole, always has been, ever since that original life, but he doesn't know that yet.

"In a sense," Father said, the way parents do when their child gets close to the truth but isn't yet old enough to understand the whole of it, "Castiel, in every fiction there is fact. Sometimes we lie because it is not the time for truth." Father took Castiel into his arms and Castiel knew what he said was important, "The truth is powerful. Too powerful to tell all the time. One day you will meet a boy and he may not remember you but you are his truth and he, yours."

"I don't understand, Father."

"I know, son," Father smiled softly down at him, "but someday you will. I only hope it doesn't hurt this time."

"The truth hurts?"

"It doesn't always but when it does," Father sighed, "it hurts a whole lot."

"I thought we agreed not to push them," said Mother.

"'We' nothing," Father said letting Castiel back down onto the floor, "I forced you into that just like every other part of this mess."

Mother smirked, "Well I wasn't going to say anything..." Sometimes Mother and Father talked like this, with words and ideas that Castiel didn't understand. He just assumed that all parents did the same.

Father chuckled and ran a hand through his hair, "What ever made me think any of this was a good idea?"

"You did what any father in your place would have done. You saw your children were suffering at the hands of one another and you sought to give them what they could not find themselves in your absence."

"A good father would have never left them to their own devices so long in the first place."

"I didn't say you were a good father," Mother said kindly, "but you are becoming one."

"This is serious, Becky."

"As am I, my love. Our children love you and what's more they respect you. Gabriel even remembers."

"I...I should speak with him."

Mother gave him the smile she often gave Castiel when she told him she was proud of him, "Yes, I believe you two have a lot to talk about."

"I have much to apologize for.

"I think he understands," Father gave Mother a look, "Well, as much as a ten year old with a millennia worth of knowledge can."

"Is that why Gabriel sounds like he does in my dreams?"

Mother and Father looked surprised to see him there, almost like they had forgotten he was in the room. They then looked at each other, as if seeking the answer to his question. Then Father spoke, "Remember what I said about truth, Castiel?"

Castiel nodded

"This is one of those truths."

"So I must find my boy first?" Castiel asked.

"Yes," Mother smiled, "Exactly that."

 

* * *

 

Ever since that day Castiel had been looking for a boy.

In little time his whole family knew he was looking for a boy. Girls were nice enough, attractive enough but Father said a boy held his answer so Castiel was looking for a boy. He knew without being told or remembering that this boy held his heart, his soul, his unnamed light. This boy was everything he only had to find him. And until he found him no one else would do.


	3. 10

Everything Castiel knows changes one day when Castiel is 10. Something desparately important happens: A family moves in next door.

There are two boy milling around, the older boy looks to be about Castiel's age so he approaches him first.

"I'm Castiel. I live next door," Castiel inclides his head to indicate his house in case the other boy missed which direction he came from.

"Dean. Dean Winchester," the boy replies, extending his hand.

"Hello, Dean," Castiel responds as he accepts it.

With that small contact the new name suddenly becomes intensely familiar as the truth of a thousand lives reveals itself just like his father told him it would all those years ago. This fresh, happy boy is Dean, the human that convinced an angel to fall for the sake of humanity, an angel who fell for Dean in every way. Castiel remembers every pain those innocent green eyes once suffered, every scar that adorned that skin and soul, both wiped clean.

"Hey, Cas! You ok there, buddy?"

For one moment, brief and confusing, Castiel thinks Dean remembers as well but Dean is still looking at him with those young eyes and Castiel knows he was wrong.

 

* * *

 

Dean insisted that being neighbors meant they were friends and that being friends meant he should meet his brothers. Castiel, still reeling from the sudden remembrance of a thousand lifetimes, agreed immediately, though it vaguely registers that the plural is new. Dean had just smiled, grabbed his hand and led him inside

"The little bitch is Sammy," Dean said not even pausing when the 6 year old yelled back, "Jerk!"

"And this is Henry," he said, indicating the baby writhing gleefully in his play pen, then shouted behind him, "he's my favorite!"

Henry continued to gurgle and babble, joining in with his brothers the only way one with his limited linguistic skills could.

Castiel couldn't help but smile at the display. No matter what changed from life to life some things stayed constant.

Sometime in his musings Dean had returned his attention to Castiel, who now found himself under the gaze that was his constant through lives.

Dean held the eye contact just like he used to and for a moment Castiel could focus on the green and they were hunter and angel again. Just as Castiel was beginning to hope again that Dean remembered he heard Sam shout, "Dean! Stop staring at your boyfriend, Mom's looking for you."

"Yeah, yeah," Dean hollers back before turning to Castiel again, "Come on, you can meet my mom."

 

* * *

 

Mary began talking before they had even made it fully into the kitchen"Dean, can you...Oh, hello. Who is this?" Mary looked very much as she always did surrounded as she was by boxes and boxes labeled "kitchen".

"Castiel, ma'am," maybe it was the new memories but something in him knew Mary also remembered.

"He lives next door! Isn't that awesome?" Dean said with bubbling enthusiasm that vibrated up Castiel's arm where their hands were joined.

Castiel was sure Mary had not missed that Dean had yet to drop his hand, he certainly hadn't. If things continued on this path this lifetime was going to be a special kind of torture.

"I'm glad you're already making friends," Mary said with a smile.

"Cas is my _best_ friend, Mom," Dean insisted. For a moment Castiel just stands there and beams. For Dean to feel so strongly about him so quickly fills him with hope that perhaps his memories are closer to the surface this time. Then Dean opens his mouth again and time just kind of...stops. "We're going to get married when we grow up!"

"Really?" Mary smiled at them, indulgently.

Dean grinned broadly and nodded, "We're _best friends_." As if that explained everything. And, Castiel realized, to him it did. In Dean's 10 year old brain when you were best friends you got married. It was as simple as that. You married your best friend.

"Don't you have to ask him first?" Mary prodded.

"You'll marry me won't you, Cas?" Dean asked. Well, as much as anyone can who thinks the answer is a foregone conclusion. Which, if Castiel is honest, it is.

"Of course, Dean."

"See!" Dean told his mother triumphantly.

"Yes," Mary said, looking as Castiel with amusement, "I _do_ see." Yes, Mary Winchester definitely remembered.

 

* * *

 

Castiel was only just coming out of his haze hours later when he returned home and was greeted by Gabriel at the front door.

In retrospect he should have been glad it was Gabriel not Anna or Samandriel or Raphael that greeted him but all he could think was the memories of heaven telling him Gabriel must be dead, seeing him alive again, the Winchesters telling him Gabriel died standing up to Lucifer, seeing him for the first time in the second life and every birth and death of every life after that. And now...Now Gabriel was standing in their home, door opened wide, 15 years old and getting his permit and...that was terrifying actually.

"So Cassie," Gabriel said as though Castiel hasn't been standing on their porch staring at him for several minutes, "Meet the new neighbors?"

"Yes." Something must have escaped in his distraction because he saw Gabriel's face light up.

"Oooo. What's his name then?" It was a tease, Castiel knew it was, but he replied anyway.

"Dean Winchester," Castiel said softly with a smile.

Beyond them, at the living room desk, Anna, frozen with a stiff suddenness, raised her head and spoke in an even monotone, "Dean Winchester is saved."

Before either brother has a chance to react the pencil dropped from her hand and she cried out, "Why?"

Castiel knew with a certainty he couldn't explain that, in that moment, she remembered, just as he remembered first saying those words.

"Castiel?" She attempted to stand, only to trip on feet that did not yet fit with the remembrances flying past. Castiel caught her before she could fall. Where his remembrance brought with it a completeness he hadn't known he was without, all he could see on Anna's face was turmoil. "I..." her wet eyes met his, "I didn't want to remember. I never wanted to remember. That's why Father allowed me to be reborn."

Castiel could think of nothing to say so instead he held her and hoped Gabriel had gone to fetch Mother...or Father, but he knew in his past lives Mother was better at this part than him.

"I tried to kill you, Castiel. I did kill Uriel. You are my brothers! How am I supposed to live with that?" Every word Anna said was a sob as if the tears came from her very soul and would not be stopped.

"The same way I will live with you and Samandriel and Raphael," he replied at length, all these lifetimes later and he still didn't like thinking about it, "We're family, Anna. That old life doesn't matter anymore."

There was a commotion in the hallway before Mother entered, followed shortly by a still panicked Gabriel.

"Oh, my poor child," Mother exclaimed in a hush. As quick as she could manage she was by Castiel's side taking Anna up into her arms as well as she could a 13 year old. "Hush, baby girl," Mother rocked Anna, the both oblivious to the two boys standing awkwardly behind them, and let her cry, "Oh, it was never meant to be this hard. I promise you it wasn't."

Anna pulled away slightly to look Mother in the eye, "I don't want to go back to heaven, Mother. I want to be _human_!"

"You _are_ human, Anael," Mother asserted, clearly using her angelic name on purpose to connect the two, just as Anna was human now so too was Anael, "As human as your soul. So am I and your Father and Gabriel and Castiel and all your bothers and sisters."

Now Castiel spoke up to lend credence to Mother's words, "It's true. Earth ended. I know. I was there."

Mother looked at him proudly and continued, "Your Father created this place for souls, like yours, to live and seek redemption and peace."

"I sought peace," Anna said softly, as if the last piece of her puzzle had fallen into place.

"I know," Mother smiled, kindly at her, "and you found it, that's why you remembered."

Anna smiled back and for a moment all was silent and content. Then Mother spoke again, "However, _Castiel_ remembering can only mean one thing."

"Yes, Mother," Castiel confirmed, "The Winchesters are here."

"I'm so happy for you, little one," her smiled held joy this time.

"Dean doesn't remember, Mother," he responded solemnly, aiming to banish her hope as well as his own.

" _Yet_ ," Mother stressed.

"She's right, bro," Gabriel added in, honestly Castiel was surprised he hadn't fled the room when Anna started crying.

"She also says that every life, it doesn't have the same impact anymore," Castiel had a feeling that came out as more of a grumble than he intended.

"You remember all that?" Gabriel questioned with audible alarm.

"Don't you?"

"Only the original life and the sense time has past."

"Oh," Castiel felt a deep residing disappointment at that knowledge. For once he had felt completely in tune with his siblings perhaps for the first time since he had pulled Dean from Hell.

"You are unique my little one," Mother spoke again, "when I came for you, you clung to each other so hard I could not completely separate you. You remember because you sought peace. He sought redemption."

"He did what he had to," Castiel responded, immediately defensive lest anyone try to condemn Dean for his action so very long ago, "he needs no redemption."

"I know. But he has yet to let himself see it," Mother encouraged but the tense energy still lingered in the room.

"Probably for the best I don't remember more anyhow," Gabriel said, it was his joking voice, "Caring all the memory around would drive me insane."

"Gabriel," Castiel spoke flatly, "Anna and I were both crazy at one point or another in that original life."

"Oh...awkward."

There was silence and then Anna began to giggle and soon they were all laughing at the sheer absurdity of it all.

Just like that they were children again. Millenia of existence pushed to the background in favor of three siblings sharing a joke in the presence of their Mother. Though as Castiel laughed along side them he realized it had to only get harder from here.


	4. 15

They're in 7th grade when Castiel realizes Dean has fallen in love with him.

He wouldn't have caught on at all if it hadn't been for Dean himself.

From Castiel point of view Dean's behavior hasn't changed. Yes: they are at an age where he usually starts his romantic pursuits. And yes: Dean doesn't appear to notice the trail of eyes that follow his movement down the hallways of their school. Yes: flirtations by both genders are met with friendly non-responses.

And it is true that they are 15, the age that Dean ought to be discovering his sexual side. And yet to all appearances he wasn't, he seemed perfectly content to just hang out with Castiel as they had always done.

It is also true Dean is more openly tactile in this life that Castiel remembers from any life past. He is constantly touching or maneuvering himself to be touched but always as a friend.

Through all of it, Dean is just his friend.

Over the lifetimes the warrior shell broke down. It did not really take that long, in comparison to his millenia as a soldier, for the battle hardened callus to fall away. When it did Castiel's heart was open; soft and vulnerable and so, so open to each touch, each soft spoken word, each lingering glance.

And it was never enough.

It never would be. No matter how much or how often he tried to tell himself otherwise. Each too casual touch, each too friendly word, each too cool look only served to remind him, to call him friend.

The keeper of his soul would always find another.

Not even storming hell had hurt so much.

So Castiel kept himself closed to Dean, had for many lifetimes now. Because even if Dean showed interest in him. Even if all Castiel ever wanted was pursuing him...

It wasn't his for the taking. Above all it wasn't right. He couldn't risk that Dean might be triggered one day and, with his memories finally intact, reject him. It would surely break him.

Still he didn't stop Dean from slinging his arm over his shoulder during a late night movie viewing or walking too close on their way to their next class. These little things were all he had. Even self-preservation could not keep him from them.

 

* * *

 

"What was that about?" Dean said, indication the boys that were now heading the other way, still laughing at their jokes. They thought it would be fun to call Castiel's family names to his face while he was waiting for Dean to walk home with him.

"It is common for our peers to question my Mother's fidelity to my Father." Castiel explained calmly as he turned them towards home.

"Why?" Dean pressed, falling into step beside him.

Castiel couldn't help but narrow his eyes at him in confusion, surely it was obvious, "My siblings and I don't synch with what they believe to be genetically possible given the gene sets of our parents."

"And you just let them?" Dean looked horrified at the prospect.

"Their opinions do not matter to me nor would any action I take change them." It wasn't that he didn't care, far from it, he loved his family but over so many lifetimes the insults were very much the same and Castiel grew tired of responding to them when they made so little difference in the whole of his existence.

"You are something else, Cas," Dean laughed and put his hand on his shoulder, "Don't ever change." Dean walked away then leaving Castiel staring after him.

Each time Castiel thought he had his hopes under control, hopes that this might finally be the lifetime that Dean remembered, there would be a moment where his Dean would shine through and the hope would flare anew.

Hope is a tricky thing as dangerous as it is powerful and Castiel knew this better than most.

Castiel caught himself, caught up to Dean, and they walked together for awhile before Dean spoke again.

"Look, Cas," Dean said, clearing his throat, which was odd, Dean only did that when he was supremely nervous, what could he have to be nervous about on a walk they took everyday, "I know you don't...I'd like to go out with you."

"Go out?" He couldn't do this, couldn't be hearing this.

"Yeah, go on dates, be boyfriends, that sort of thing."

"I...You'd want that."

"So much, Cas."

"I won't kiss you," Castiel blurted out, if he was going to go down this road, and at this point there wasn't really any turning back, he needed to have some sort of guidelines.

"You don't have to," Dean smiled and offered his hand, palm up, "Can I?"

"What? Oh! Yes." Castiel placed his hand in Dean's who immeadiately and softly tangled their fingers. He'd held Dean's hand before in a thousand different ways but never like this, never with romantic intent before.

"I did some research," Dean said and when Castiel looked at him he saw he was still looking at their joined hands, "and I think...well...Are you asexual, Cas?"

There it was. The perfect reasoning. Just agree and his guidelines would be enforced. He could have this relationship, this closeness with Dean without betraying a remembering Dean.

And yet forcing his lips to say, "Yes" while his body screamed no was one of the hardest things he'd ever had to do.

"Ok." Dean agreed so easily, meeting Castiel's eye with a smile. This is when it all falls into place for Castiel. The reason Dean has not been acting as he did at this age in other lives. Dean, 15 years old and without remembering anything that came before, is in love with Castiel.

"Ok." He could do this. He could deny the sexual side of himself if he could have even this much of Dean. After all, Castiel thought, Dean was willing to do the same for him.


	5. 20

They're 20 years old when Dean first suggests they live together.

"We're going to the same school, Cas," Dean declares one day, “I'm tired of the dorms. You’re tired of the dorms. So let's get an apartment together."

"Dean..." Castiel sighed. He had honestly been expecting this talk, maybe not this soon, but expecting it all the same. But expecting it did not equate to looking forward to it.

"No, think about it,” Dean clearly hadn’t been assuming this would be an easy sell, “We won't have to screen roommates. We can share rent. Plus we see each other nearly everyday anyway. Hell, we've been dating for over 5 years now. It's perfect."

The thing was it really had been. For 5 years Dean had been the perfect boyfriend: kind, attentive, patient, never pushing Castiel into anything he wasn't ready for or willing to do, always wanting to talk things through. It was hard not to think of this Dean as being even farther from his Dean than any that came before.

Mother said it was because, through all these lives, Dean had been looking for him too. "But for him it is harder," she had said, "because he’s looking without knowing he is looking." Sometimes it was very hard to reconcile his Mother with the fangirl from that first life. "The memories of countless lives will change a girl," she would say whenever he had asked. He hadn't in many lifetimes now.

"What about when you need time alone?" Castiel asked. They had fleshed out their physical relationship, or reasons for a lack of one, over the last 5 years. So Dean understood that even though Castiel did, occasionally, seek physical release he did not want Dean present when he did so, nor did he want to be present when Dean did the same. Really Castiel was looking to poke holes in the whole idea.

"So we make sure to still give each other space when we need it. It's not like you don't need time without me either." Dean's accompanying eyebrow waggle told him Dean knew what Castiel had meant even if he sidestepped it.

"I always like being around you, Dean," Castiel responded instead of making this yet another conversation about emotional desires verses physical ones.

"Boy, Cas, sure know how to make a guy feel special," Dean smirked, he had to know he had won if a well worn topic was his token objection "So...What do you say?"

“Two bedrooms?”

"Oh, yeah, of course, sure," Dean said, obviously aiming for casual.

"Ok," Castiel breathed, "Let's live together."

Dean let out a whoop. "You're awesome, babe," he says throwing his arms around Castiel, "This is going to be great, just you wait."

Despite this ecstatic reaction there was still something lingering in his face that made Castiel pause. Something bothered Dean about the idea of them having separate bedrooms but it was clearly not something Dean wished to talk about, and Dean had so few things he didn’t want to talk to Castiel about, so Castiel decided to leave it be.

It wasn't till their first night in the new apartment that Castiel realized just how bad of an idea that was.

The night started out normal.

They ate dinner in their new kitchen, watched a movie on their new, pre-owned couch, then said goodnight. Only this time, instead of one or the other starting home, they went to their rooms.

It was nice, Castiel thought as he settled into sleep, he could be content like this. He _could_.

Castiel woke, very suddenly, to the sensation of someone watching him sleep. He opened his eyes and found Dean standing awkwardly in his doorway.

Dean looked pale, drawn, and when he spoke it was shakier than Castiel could remember ever hearing him before, "I, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up."

"Dean?" Castiel began as he moved to fully face him, "What's the matter?"

"Nothing...Well, uh, the thing is..." Dean started anxiously, "I haven't actually had a room to myself since Sammy was born and when I do, I..."

This time it didn't appear Dean was going to continue but Castiel thought he could see what Dean meant. "You have nightmares."

Dean nodded, shifting on his feet like he wanted to... _oh_.

Castiel shuffled over and patted the empty space he'd just made. Despite this being new territory for them Dean didn't need any more encouragement. He was across the room and under the covers before Castiel realized _this_ is what had been hiding in Dean's face when Castiel first suggested two bedrooms.

He had long known that Dean craved physical attention and reassurance but it was clear now that their relationship, as it stood, was not providing him that. So Castiel drew Dean up into his arms and resolved to move them into a single bedroom in the morning. True, this was going to make things so much harder on him, both now and when Dean finally remembered, but there was never a lifetime where Castiel put his needs above Dean's and there never would be.

Dean melted into him like Castiel's embrace could guard him from any horrors his mind could conjure up. It only served to solidify his certainty in his decision.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Castiel asked gently.

Dean drew in a shaky breath and began, "When it starts it's just Sammy and I."

"You've had this dream before?"

Dean nodded and continued, "He's just a baby and I'm holding him, staring at him thinking he's my _brother_ and that's just the greatest thing in the _world_. There's always this brief moment when we're happy before the fire starts."

The mention of fire peeked Castiel interest, it played such a key role in Dean's original life.

"I never actually see the fire begin but suddenly it's there and Dad's screaming at me to run. So I do. I run and run until I'm not running anymore I'm in a car with Dad and Sam, driving away from the fire as fast as we can go. So I ask Dad where we're going and he says, 'We're almost there, Son.' Only we're driving _toward_ the fire now, just as fast but it never gets any closer. I turn to make sure Sammy's ok only he's not there and when I turn again _Dad's_ not there. "

Castiel fought to keep himself from tensing up but each word ratcheted up his hope. What Dean was describing, it was the original life, an abstract version, but still accurate. If Dean was dreaming about the original life it could mean his memories were close to the surface. He could remember soon.

"Now it's just me, chasing the fire until it catches me and I'm burning up and becoming fire and then...and then you were there, Cas. I couldn't see your face but I _knew_ it was you and...I didn't want to go with you. I was _becoming_ fire, you were there to save me and I _didn't want to go with you_. Why wouldn't I want to go with you? I love you but in my dream I was so _scared_ of you. I thought you were going to kill me." Dean is shaking now, trying to hold it in but still shaking. Castiel just held him tighter, gripping him like he was pulling him from hell all over again.

"How long have you had that dream, Dean?" Castiel asked, when he was reasonably certain he could keep the hope from his voice.

"My whole life."

Castiel was stunned.

"Even before I knew you. I recognized you the day I met you."

“I…” Castiel pauses, he has to do this delicately, “Can I tell a story? One my Father would tell me whenever I had a nightmare?”

Dean nodded. It was a small, timid thing, but the consent was there.

“Once, there were angels. The angels had no physical form. They were warriors of light and will, and fury and love. Among these angels was a Seraph.”

Dean was silent and indicated for Castiel to continue.

“He was low ranking and often looked over by his more powerful brethren, but he was important,” his Father’s description of Castiel’s original existence was embarrassing to recount but in each life Castiel remembered Father’s bedtime story being vital to preparing him for ultimately remembering the facts the story was really telling, “Possibly the most important angel of them all though no one knew it.”

“You see, in those days the world was separated into four different planes: Heaven, where the angels lived, where they could watch the other planes in their formless state; Hell, where the demons lived, where all evil humans were sent when they died; Purgatory, where the monsters lived, where they couldn’t hide in little boys closets; and Earth, where the humans lived,” he felt Dean chuckle against him.

“ _Your dad_ told you this?” Dean said incredulously, though there was a smile in his voice, “I always knew Chuck was mess up.”

Castiel wasn’t sure how to respond to that so he just smiled with him and continued, “One day the news was heard: there was a Righteous Man in Hell. Heaven cried out at the injustice. Of all the angels the Seraph was the most angered. ‘I will save the Righteous Man,’ he declared and down he swooped.”

“When the Seraph got to Hell the demons didn’t want to let the Righteous Man go. The Seraph fought his way through the demons to reach the Righteous Man. He fought for 40 years until he finally found him. The Seraph held him tight and pulled him back to Earth,” Dean’s breathing had evened out but Castiel knew he was still listening, “The Seraph had done what he set out to do but he found he could not leave the Righteous Man. So instead he took a physical form and fell to Earth, even though it meant he could never go home again. From that day on they were inseparable. The Seraph and his Righteous Man side by side until the end of all time.”

“That sounds familiar…” Dean said slowly, sinking into sleep with the last word.

Castiel just sighed, hoping he had not gone too far, “I know.” Then he settled down beside Dean and let sleep reclaim him as well.


	6. 25

Things continued much the way they had until one day, when they're 25, Dean did the unthinkable.

"I know we've been talking about this for years now...well, joking about it anyway. But I think it's time to make something of it," right there on his parent's front porch Dean Winchester dropped to one knee, willingly, before Castiel and pulled out a little box. "Cas, you've been my best friend since we were 10 years old. You are the love of my life and I can't imagine my life without you in it. I know our marriage wouldn't be a traditional one and I don't care. You are the greatest person I've ever known and I want nothing more than to call you my own." Dean took a deep breath, quickly, like he was worried Castiel would interrupt him but really Castiel was too stunned to do anything but stare, then he said it, "Castiel Shirley will you marry me?"

"Dean," Castiel breathed his name out though he was breathless. A thousand, thousand lifetimes and Dean could still surprise him. Dean still didn't remember but Castiel could feel in his words, see in his eyes, Dean loved him. Loved him wholly, in the way Castiel had dreamed of these countless lives. What could he do but accept?

Dean had stood by that point, silent and hopeful in Castiel's space. The whole situation had overwhelmed Castiel, which was the only explanation for what he did next.

They had been together 10 years but never once had they kissed. But right now, in this moment, everything he had ever wanted laid out for him to take, to have, to keep? Castiel closed the very limited space between them, brushed his lips against Dean's and said, "I will gladly give you tradition, all of it."

Castiel felt Dean's smile before Dean pressed forward and planted his lips, soft yet firm, against Castiel's.

From that first touch Castiel could tell this was a horrible idea. No way was he going to be able to keep from kissing Dean again and again and again if this small caress of a kiss was his. One day this man would remember and reject him and...

Then Dean brought a hand up to Castiel's neck pulling him into a deeper, more solid kiss and all thought of the future was pushed from his mind in favor of chasing Dean's lips across his own. Unable to hold himself back any longer Castiel threw all his lifetimes of love into each contact of lips and tongue, losing himself in Dean, Dean, _finally_ Dean.

"Cas," Dean breathed leaning his forehead against Castiel's, "Cas." Then his eyes snapped open, " _Cas_?"

The change in his tone had Castiel meeting his eyes. _There_ , in his eyes, was the man Castiel had followed through Heaven, Hell, Purgatory, and countless lives, “Dean.” He dropped his hands from the grip they had found on Dean's hips, backing away slightly.

This was it. The moment he had been hoping for and dreading. He had finally allowed himself to have, to let Dean past his defenses, and now it was gone.

"I'm sorry," he doesn't look at Dean as he pulls away, he can't. He was breaking, he couldn't look Dean in the eye and walk away with all his pieces. "I won't hold you to your question," Castiel's eyes catch on the little box he’ll now never see inside, "I know it wasn't you."

Castiel knew his panic must be on full display, this was what he had been afraid of. He had handled rejections from _countless_ unremembering Deans but to endure the same from his Dean might finally break him in a way lifetimes of waiting could never hope to.

"Cas," Dean was urging Castiel's face in his direction again. But it wasn’t the tone that caused Castiel to acquiesce, it was the tenderness he felt in Dean's hand on his face. When he finally lifted his eyes to meet Dean's he saw him. _His_ Dean. Whole and complete and staring at him with an awe Castiel the angel never saw.

"God, Cas."

Here it comes.

Only it doesn’t. Instead there are those lips again, hot and insistent on his own. This wasn't the tentative first kiss of young man. This was his Dean kissing him with a passion Castiel has only dreamed of.

"How long?" Dean huffed between frantic kisses, "How long have I kept you waiting?"

He didn’t know how to answer him. For all he had been waiting for the life when Dean would remember him too he hadn’t the slightest idea what to say to him now that he did. No words Castiel had ever known could number the days since he first loved this man, this soul.

He remembered what Gabriel had told him, _the vague sense that time has past_. But how could he explain it. How could he tell Dean just how much, how many lifetimes he had been waiting, watching, loving him? So instead he simply put his hand on Dean’s shoulder, exactly where once, so very long ago, he gripped Dean’s corrupted, burning soul and raised him back toward life.

Understanding and sorrow flooded Dean’s eyes, “I’ve been gone a long time haven’t I?”

Castiel just shrugged and answered honestly, “I’ve lost count.”

“Well, we have the rest of our lives for you tell me all about it,” Dean said, collecting Castiel hands, “like: why you let me believe you’re anything other than a completely sexual being.”

“Asexuals are still sexual beings, Dean. Sexuality does not require sexual attraction,” he corrected.

“Sure, sure, but you aren’t one.” This was something he had never considered as an outcome of Dean remembering. Dean was _disappointed_ in him.

“No,” Castiel had to concede, “I am not.” He knew, had known even when he had claimed it back in high school, it was a coward’s lie.

“Now,” Dean said, “enough of this chick flick stuff.” He held up the little box, now opened, “You still wanna marry me?”

Castiel nearly choked on the words, “Of course, Dean.”

Dean smiled broadly. “Good.”


End file.
